Tokyo, a view from my hotel room
She tried talking to me—super friendly π—but here’s the thing: one, my wife was literally taking the photo of me at that moment, and two, the only Japanese I know is how to order ramen. So all she got from me was “Tonkotsu, onegai!” and a confused smile. Unless she also worked part-time at a noodle shop, I probably came off as a very polite lunatic craving soup. ππ
Ah, crΓͺpes... my grin says it all. I looked like a kid who had just discovered that dessert for breakfast is a real thing. I wasn't smiling; my face was just trying to hold in the sugar explosion happening in my soul. ππ₯
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